Life In Hell
by RainbowsUnicornsAndDeath
Summary: Clary Fray is an average girl- that's what everyone thinks, anyway. Her father abuses her daily, and her brother, who has always helped to protect her from him is leaving for college. To top it all off, she's switching schools in the middle of the semester, and the popular kids make it their job to make her life even more of a hell. Will a certain someone be able to save her?
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: This story contains swearing, abuse, and cutting, and I'm not sure what else yet. If that could trigger a reaction or it's not something you can handle, then please do not read.**

**I wish I owned the Mortal Instruments, but I do not- that honor belongs to Cassandra Clare. *pouts* **

_She was drifting through a void of darkness, trying desperately but still failing to find any source of light, sound, or anything at all. Anything to escape this endless darkness. Slowly, she closed her eyes, and just as she finally gave up on finding something, anything, a voice cut through the silence..._

"Clary! Clary, wake up!" a voice whispered urgently in her ear. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place who it belonged to. "Come on, Clary! You can't be late today! You know our father won't tolerate it... Please, Clary!" By that point, she recognized that the voice belonged to none other than Jonathon Morgenstern, her older brother. "Clary! _Please, please, please _don't give him a reason to be mad at you! He's in a bad enough mood today already and I don't think I need to remind you what that means."

Clary bolted out of bed and instantly regretted it. Her muscles were still screaming from the beating she had received the night before. She wished that she was still dreaming, because, as horrible as that had been, at least she hadn't been able to feel any pain. "I'm up," she muttered. "Sort of..."

"Clary..." her brother started shakily, "you remember what today is, right?"

"Are we talking about it being my first day of school here in the middle of the semester? Or the fact that you're leaving for college today and I probably won't see you again in this lifetime?" she asked bitterly, stretching as much as her abused muscles would allow.

"Hey, don't be like that-"

Clary interrupted him mid-sentence, cracking her back, then her knuckles. "Why shouldn't I? It doesn't matter anyway because both of them are right! It's my first day at yet _another_ new school, you're leaving for college today, I probably won't ever see you again, and on top of it all, you know _Valentine _is going to be angrier than usual because you're leaving today and that means he's losing one of his slaves! You know I'm right!" Clary refused to call Valentine their father, because he hadn't ever been a true father to them. She was related to Valentine by blood and blood alone.

"Clary, you know I'd stay if I had a choice. Please, don't do this to me. I know you're mad, and you have the right to be, but can we please at least try to part on good terms? I don't want to any more than you want me to, and we both know how much that is." Jonathon tilted her face up so she was forced to meet his black eyes, and wasn't surprised to see that she was crying. He sighed and hugged her for a few minutes, giving her time to adjust to the pain that still caught her by surprise every morning. Once she finally stopped crying, he pulled away from her. "Better?"

Clary smiled up at him uncertainly. "Yeah... Just too much to handle so early in the morning. Did you make coffee?"

Jonathon just smiled. "That's all you ever think about, isn't it? Here." He handed her a steaming cup.

She stuck out her tongue and laughed at him as she drank her coffee. "Ahhhh. Delicious! And only in the morning. You wouldn't dare deprive me of caffeine. You know better."

"But of course, madam. Now get your ass moving! You have exactly twenty minutes to be downstairs and ready to leave."

"Yes, sir!" She mock-saluted him, then bolted into the bathroom. Looking at her face and body in the full-size mirror, she remembered what had happened the night before.

_She opened the door slowly, peeking around it slowly. Seeing no sign of Valentine as of yet, Clary slipped through the door. Running into the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks. He was waiting for her. "Bitch! Where were you? School let out twenty minutes ago! It doesn't take twenty minutes to walk home! You were out slutting around with some boy, weren't you? I can't believe YOU are my daughter. No daughter of mine could be such a fuck-up!" Valentine screamed at her, then, with no notice, punched her in the stomach. She doubled over on the floor, and he kicked her and continued to tell her just how worthless she was to him. "Your brother was always perfect! No mistakes! He came out right! But you- you were too much like your bitch of a mother- you even look just like her!" He kicked her one more time, the hardest yet, causing stars to dance across her vision. "Pathetic!" he spat. "Now make my dinner and get out of my sight!"S__he nodded hurriedly and started fixing dinner. The moment it was done, she placed it carefully on the table and scampered to her room to nurse her wounds._

Clary shook her head, ending the flashback. After turning on the water, she grabbed her razor and got in, finally letting the tears flow down her cheeks. _One cut for crying._ Cut. _One cut for being weak. _Cut._ One cut for being worthless. _Cut. _One cut for having no friends._ Cut. _One__ cut for Jonathon leaving. _Cut. _One cut for forcing us to move._ Cut. _One cut for letting this happen. _Cut. _One cut for what will happen. _Cut. _And one cut for cutting. _Cut. Watching her blood turn the water pink, Clary rinsed the razor and hid it in the cabinet under the sink so that Jonathon wouldn't see it before he left. He didn't know about the cutting and he didn't need to. She waited until the blood had stopped flowing as freely, then dug out her make-up bag. This might take a minute.

* * *

Ten minutes and several tubes of cover-up later, Clary was almost ready to leave. She threw on a plain gray long sleeve shirt and jeans, grabbed her bag, and dashed downstairs as fast as her bruised legs would carry her. She hastily cleaned up all the broken glass and the beer bottles littering the floor, and fixed breakfast for Valentine. She had just set it on the table when Jonathon came in.

"Come on Clare-Bear, time to go."

She nodded in response and they ran to the car. The whole ride there Clary kept her eyes on her hands, not looking up once.

Jonathon sighed. "Clary, I'm not gonna be there when you get home, so try to behave yourself. I can't protect you from him if I'm not there. If things get too bad, you know what to do. But please, only do that as a last resort. Promise me that, at least. Please?"

"Fine... I promise." Clary almost couldn't breathe from holding back tears, but she refused to cry.

"We're here. I'm gonna miss you Clare-Bear."

"Bye John." That was all Clary could say without bursting into tears, and Jonathon seemed to understand that. She hopped out of the car quickly, and ran towards the school entrance, only stopping once to glance back and watch her brother drive away, letting a single tear fall down her face.

* * *

**This is my first fanfiction, so please review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: This story contains coarse language, abuse, cutting, and I'm not really sure what else yet. If that could trigger a reaction or you can't handle it, then please don't read.**

**I wish I owned the Mortal Instruments, but I do not, seeing as I am not Cassandra Clare.**

"Okay, so if this is the main entrance, then where's the office?"Clary wondered aloud. She had been looking for more than twenty minutes, and she hadn't seen any sign of an office. Just then, a boy- scrawny, with curly black hair and round glasses- ran around the corner too fast and crashed into her, causing her to cringe away from him. Looking up, she realized how ridiculous she must seem, cowering in fear just because he ran into her _on accident._

The boy ran over to her instantly. "Oh my god! I am so sorry- I didn't mean to run into you. Are you okay? Do you need to go tho the nurse? I'm Simon by the way, but you probably don't care to know that. I should really stop taking. My big mouth always gets me into trouble. I really am sorry!"

"Simon, right? You don't need to worry about it. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me, it was just a natural reaction. I used to have trouble with the kids at my old school. I'm just used to ducking, that's all." she lied easily. "And I hate to have to ask you this, but do you know where the office is? It's my first day and I still need to pick up my schedule."

Simon looked immensely relieved that I wasn't mad at him. "Yeah, I do. Come on, I'll show you." He started walking down the hallway, then stopped when he realized she wasn't following him. "Hey! You coming or not?"

Clary blinked rapidly, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just kinda out of it today."

Simon shook his head. "Well, at least you're new. Even the people that have been here the whole year still have trouble finding the main office, 'cause it's on the second floor on the other side of the hall, as where most schools have it right at the main entrance."

Clary smiled sheepishly. "Oh... But... Wait a minute! That doesn't make any sense!"

"Yeah, it's pretty weird. I think they did that just to confuse new students." he replied humorously.

"Yeah? Well if that's the case, it's working." Clary muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Simon to hear.

He laughed at her. "Glad someone understands how I feel." Clary looked at him questioningly. "I was new last year." Simon explained. "I should probably warn you, the kids here are gonna give you so much shit just because you're new, or you're short, or maybe even because you have red hair. They'll find stupid reasons like that to put you down, but they only do it because they're worried you're going to damage their reputations. Just remember that you're welcome to sit with me and my friends at lunch, unless you don't want to that is, and if that's the case, I totally understand, I wouldn't want to hang out with me either. I just thought-"

"Simon!" She cut him off mid-sentence. "I would love to hang out with you guys! It just can't be after school."

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

"My dad's really strict about that." she said. _Technically I'm not lying..._ she told herself. _I don't need to feel bad about it._

"Wow... I can't imagine having parents that strict. Mine let me do whatever I want." Simon said it as if he couldn't believe that someone would be that strict. "So, what do your parents do for a living?"

Clary looked down, suddenly finding her toes to be very interesting. "I never knew my mom. She could have died giving birth to me for all I know and my dad's an accountant. What about yours?" _You're not really lying, Clary, _she reminded herself. _You're just bending the truth a little, that's all._

"Nothing interesting. My mom is a real-estate agent and my dad died when I was young. I don't remember him at all."

"Oh... I would say I'm sorry about your dad but I know how annoying that gets. Let's change the subject. Um... Wanna play would you rather?" Clary grinned mischievously.

"Sure. Should I be worried?" Simon looked slightly unnerved.

"Not really. The rules are simple: we take turns asking totally out-there questions, and both of us have to answer. You have to say 'would you rather _this _or _that?'_ and you have to answer with only one of the choices. You can't say neither or both, and you can't skip the question. If something doesn't apply to you, you just answer as if it does. Got it?" She continued to grin, and it was really starting to creep Simon out.

"I think so. You can start with the questions." he said, not quite sure what he had gotten himself into.

Clary clapped her hands gleefully. "Yay! I'll start off with the easier questions, I guess. Would you rather have no one show up to your wedding or your funeral?"

Simon looked shocked. "That's an easy question? I'd hate to see a hard one. And I would rather no one show up to my wedding, I think, because it would hurt more to know that no one cared enough about me that when I died they didn't even bother showing up to my funeral. You?"

Clary answered instantly. "I think I would rather have no one show up to my funeral because I hate making people sad, and they probably wouldn't care anyways. The only way someone would go to my funeral is if they were being paid to or they had some major problem with me and they wanted to curse my grave. Either way, I'd prefer to avoid that situation. Your turn for a question!"

Simon glanced over at her, surprised that the question hadn't affected her at all. _Wow... _he thought to himself. _It doesn't bother her at all? She must really believe it. _Shaking himself out of his thoughts he asked the first question that came to his mind. "Would you rather brutally murder your entire family or be part of the human centipede?" He could have slapped himself. _Like she would actually know what that is! _

Surprisingly, she answered right away. "Horror movie fan, huh? Finally, someone that speaks my language. And brutally murder my entire family. Sometimes I want to do that anyways. Well except for my brother, but I don't think it would affect anything too much. How about you?"

Simon grinned, glad she had understood what he had been talking about. "Same. Your turn."

Clary thought for a moment. "If you had a daughter, would you rather her have no friends or be a total slut?"

_What kind of questions are these?_ Simon wondered. "No friends. As bad as that would be, it would still be better than her being on the bitch-squad." Clary busted out laughing, then winced slightly.

"Same, and for the same reason. I usually only refer to the cheerleaders as the bitch-squad though."

Simon grinned. "Yeah, I guess that would make more sense. Hey, this is the office. I can wait for you and show you to your next class if you want." He said it like a question.

Clary gave him a grateful smile. "Yes, please do. I can get lost anywhere, and chances are I wouldn't be able to find any of my classes. I should only be a minute in here." She turned and slipped through the office doors. Walking up to the secretary, she said, "My name is Clarissa Fray. I'm here to pick up my schedule."

The secretary smiled sweetly. "Of course dear. It's right here. Let me know if you need anything. I'll send your teacher a notice so she knows you're going to be there. Have a nice day, dear."

Clary winced at the pet name, but faked a convincing smile. "Thank you! I'll be sure to do that but I doubt it'll be necessary. Have a nice day!" she said in the nicest tone she could muster, then spun on her heel and hurried out the door to where Simon was waiting for her. She opened her schedule. "I don't even know what floor any of these are on, much less how to find the room numbers!" she cried out, frustrated.

Simon shook his head. "Here, let me see." He scanned over it quickly, then started walking. Clary had to run to catch up. "Okay, so you have English with Mr. Starkweather first, that's on the first floor, then you have History with Ms. Fairchild-" Simon cut off the rest of his sentence because Clary had suddenly turned pale. "Clary? You okay?" She only nodded in response. Slightly worried, Simon continued. "As I was saying, Ms. Fairchild is the room directly across from Mr. Starkweather's. Then you have lunch, so I'll come find you and show you the cafeteria, and we can discuss the rest of your schedule then. Okay?" Clary nodded slowly, like she was trying to memorize the information. "This is your classroom. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

Clary finally answered verbally. "Okay. Bye, Simon!" She watched as he ran back up the stairs, then turned back to the classroom door.

_Here goes nothing..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: This story contains coarse language, cutting, child abuse, and I'm not really sure what else yet. If that could be triggering to you or you just can't read that kind of thing, then please don't read this.**

** Disclaimer: If I owned the Mortal Instruments, Alec and Magnus would never have broken up in the first place.**

_ Here goes nothing…_

She quietly opened the classroom door and had almost made it to her seat when the teacher noticed her.

"Miss Morgenstern. Glad you could finally join us." Mr. Starkweather called out just loudly enough that the rest of the school probably heard it.

She turned around quickly. "My name is Clary Fray, not 'Miss Morgenstern.' I got my name changed years ago. Don't ever call me Morgenstern again." She said this with such a glint in her eye that Mr. Starkweather decided to back down.

"Fine then, _Miss Fray. _Would you like to tell us all a little bit about yourself?" He sounded very confident that he had won.

"Not really," Clary said sharply, and went to stand at the back of the room.

"Miss Fray, please sit down so I can continue me lecture." Here he received the classic, _Are you stupid? _look from Clary, until he realized why she was standing. "Jace, move your stuff over so she can sit next to you."

She looked over at the boy he was talking to, but immediately looked away. He had golden blonde hair, tan skin, and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. It made her blush just to think about it. Then he opened his mouth and ruined the image entirely.

"Why do I have to move all my stuff? It's not my fault she got here late. I refuse to sit next to someone as hideous as her!" _Yup. He's your stereotypical asshole of a man-whore._

At this point Clary was fed up with it. "Just start talking already," she said, exasperated. "It won't kill me to stand for the last few minutes of class!" Just as she finished speaking, the bell rang. "See? I'm still alive." She walked out to her next class.

* * *

The moment she walked into her next class, she wished she hadn't. She took one look at the teacher and sprinted out of the room.

_No. No! This can't be happening! She can't be here! It's not possible! I thought she was dead! _Thoughts raced through Clary's head as she ran to the nearest courtyard. _She can't show up now, after all these years! Today must be a Tuesday! That would explain everything…_

Just then, a voice startled her out of her thoughts. "Hey there, Red. Didn't expect to run into you out here." Great timing, Goldilocks.

"Leave me the fuck alone." _Is it really so much to ask for you to go away?_

"Feisty. I like it. So tell me, Red, what exactly are you doing out here instead of in class?" He sounded like he was teasing her. Why would he even expect an answer?

"I could ask you the same thing. Now, why don't you just leave me the fuck alone and go fuck one of your whores? That's probably all you know how to do anyway." If Clary was trying to piss him off, she was doing a good job of it.

"Fine." He stormed back inside.

"Fine."

* * *

After the second block was over, she ran quickly to the cafeteria, which surprisingly wasn't that hard to find. Simon was already there waiting for her, along with a few other people that she assumed were his friends.

"Guys, this is Clary. She's new here. Clary, this is Maia, Jordan, and Magnus. You guys should get along great!" He said this in an overexcited voice that could almost be qualified as fangirling, making everyone laugh. "What? What'd I do?"

"Nothing... Nothing at all, Simon," the girl,_ Maia? _said teasingly. "Come on, lets go get lunch." They all walked over to one of the lines to get their food, so Clary just went to sit at their table. Just then, a girl came bouncing over. She looked amazing, in a white long sleeved dress with black stiletto boots that went up past her thighs. Her make-up was perfectly applied, and she looked like the type of person that was always smiling. So, all in all, your typical fashion girl. The only difference was that she had a dangerous edge to her features, almost like she was daring you to start a fight.

"Hi, I'm Isabelle, but you can call me Izzy. I'm a friend of Simon's. I love your hair, but your outfit could use a little work." Cue a worried glance from Clary. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know I need to stop doing that, but I want to major in fashion so I need all the practice I can get. Anyways, I'm assuming you're new? Don't worry, I got your back."

Clary was a little disturbed at this point, but the girl seemed to be sincere... "Thanks... I think..." Still not sure if that should be taken as an insult or a compliment. "I could kinda use a minute to myself after last class..."

Izzy seemed concerned to hear that. "Why? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just feeling a little sick. I should be okay in a minute though." Clary replied guiltily. _Still, _she told herself,_ you're not technically lying to her._

"Okay..." Izzy looked skeptical, but luckily Simon and the others got back to the table just then. Magnus and Izzy quickly began discussing fashion while Maia, Jordan, and Simon argued over whether Assassins Creed or Call Of Duty had better graphics. Unluckily for Clary, Simon looked at her and did a double take.

"Hey, why aren't you eating? You really shouldn't skip meals, you know." He sounded fairly concerned.

She hurried to come up with an explanation so as not to worry him. "I can't eat between certain times of the day or it makes me sick. I know it doesn't make much sense, but that's just how it works. Don't worry, I'll eat later." Simon didn't look happy with the explanation, but he accepted it for the time being. Just then, the bell rang.

"I hate to have to ask you this again, but how do you get to room 483? I'm still lost." Clary looked embarrassed to have to be shown around, but some arrogant asshole just decided to make things easier on her.

"Well, well, looks like I share the same class as a certain someone yet again. You sure you're not stalking me, Red?" Jace. Ugh.

"JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER LIGHTWOOD! YOU LEAVE HER ALONE THIS INSTANT!" Izzy shouted in his ear.

"Geez, sis, no need to get your panties in a twist. I'm just gonna show her to her next class. Unless, she desires more of my gorgeousness, of course." Here he turns to wink at Clary.

"Ugh! You're such a pig! Are you seriously related to this ass?"

"He's adopted."

"Oh, that makes sense." Clary said to herself. "Alright, I'll give it to you, if by 'it' you mean a fist to the face. How do you get to 483?"

"Ohh, you're in honors? That's almost impassible to get into. How'd you manage it?" Simon asked jealously.

"Fine. I'll show you the way, if you'll go out with me." Jace said smugly.

"Never." Clary turned off in the wrong direction and started walking.

"Where are you going exactly?"

"Room 483... Eventually, that is. I'm just going to wander around until I find it." She walked off, determined.

"Oh boy... What do we do now?" Simon whispered. "She won't let anyone help her now. Great job pissing her off, Goldilocks."


	4. Chapter 4

****Warning: This story contains coarse language, self-harm, child abuse, and I'm not really sure what else yet. If that could be triggering to you or you just can't read that kind of thing, then please don't read this.****

****Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments...which means I don't own Magnus. *wails in agony* WHY CAN'T I HAS MAGGY?! WHY?! I also don't own Enter Sandman. *pouts*****

* * *

_"Oh boy... What do we do now?" Simon whispered. "She won't let anyone help her now. Great job pissing her off, Goldilocks."_

Twenty minutes and a ton of frustration later, Clary arrived at room 483. The teacher gave her a funny look, but didn't say anything about her tardiness. Instead, he decided to be an asshole.

"Miss Fray, would you care to introduce yourself to the class?" he said smugly, smirking. "And while you're at it, is there anything you would like to tell us about yourself?"

"Well, Luke, is it? I would most definitely not like to introduce myself, as you seem to have just done so for me. And as for what I would like everyone to know about me? Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. Piss me off on a Tuesday or a holiday, and I will make having the shit beat out of you by Chuck Norris seem like a day at the beach. And yes, I know I'm a bitch. That will be all." She stalked to the back of the room and plopped down in her seat, content to draw for the remainder of the class. She had seen the equation on the board, and silently laughed to herself. Her father had taught her everything she would ever need to learn before she had turned ten, so she snickered when Mr. Garroway got more and more frustrated because he couldn't solve it. Did he need to go back to elementary school or something? This was simple, basic math. She watched him make a fool of himself repeatedly, and finally decided to take pity on him.

"Mr. Garroway, just let me do it, please. You're lowering all of our IQ's just by being in the same room as us." She took the marker out of his hand, quickly scribbled down her work and answer, and handed it back to him. "Thank you. Now please find something to talk about that you actually know what you're doing with." She bowed slightly, then turned and walked back to her seat, which wasn't next to Jace for once, humming "Enter Sandman." Just as she reached her seat, she belted out,

_"Say your prayers little one_

_Don't forget my son_

_To include everyone_

_I tuck you in, warm within_

_Keep you free from sin_

_'Til the sandman he comes_

_Sleep with one eye open_

_Gripping your pillow tight_

_Exit light_

_Enter night_

_Take my hand_

_We're off to never-never land_

_Something's wrong, shut the light_

_Heavy thoughts tonight_

_And they aren't of Snow White_

_Dreams of war, dreams of liars_

_Dreams of dragon's fire_

_And of things that will bite, yeah_

_Sleep with one eye open_

_Gripping your pillow tight_

_Exit light_

_Enter night_

_Take my hand_

_We're off to never-never land_

_Now I lay me down to sleep_

_(Now I lay me down to sleep)_

_Pray the lord my soul to keep_

_( Pray the lord my soul to keep)_

_If I die before I wake_

_(If I die before I wake)_

_Pray the lord my soul to take_

_( Pray the lord my soul to take)_

_Hush little baby don't say a word_

_And never mind that noise you heard_

_It's just the beasts under your bed_

_In your closet in your head_

_Exit light_

_Enter night_

_Grain of sand_

_Exit light_

_Enter night_

_Take my hand_

_We're off to never-never land_

_Boom!_

_Yeah yeah!_

_We're off to never-never land_

_Take my hand_

_We're off to never-never land_

_Take my hand_

_We're off to never-never land_

_We're off to never-never land_

_We're off to never-never land"_

Mr. Garroway looked slightly amused at her sudden outburst, but the bell rang before he could do anything about it. He shook his head and sighed as Clary bolted out the door with her stuff. Time to check on Jocelyn...

* * *

Jace bolted down the hall after Clary, trying desperately to keep up. "Hey, Red, wait up! You don't even know where you're going!" She either didn't hear him or didn't care, because she didn't even slow down as she bolted through the maze off hallways otherwise known as school. Jace just sighed and pushed people out of the way. There was no way she was going to beat him to his favorite class!

* * *

Clary bolted into the girls locker room and changed into the standardized uniform, otherwise known as shorts and a T-shirt. She nearly cursed as she realized that her bruises would show while she was changing, so she hurried to finish before anyone else could get there. This was going to be fun... She went straight out to the gym and started her stretches.

Coach Cairstairs blew the whistle loudly, causing some of the kids to cover their ears. "You are going to run until you collapse. I mean this literally. I will count your laps. Go!"

Clary laughed as she took off. The other kids were already groaning, but she ignored it and focused on the pounding rhythm of her feet on the hard gym floors. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the coach suddenly stopped her as she was running. As she looked around to see what she had done wrong, she realized that she had been the only one still running. How had everyone else tired out so quickly? She just shook her head and laughed. "Sorry, Coach. Guess I got a little bit carried away there..." She scratched the back of her neck absently.

"Clary, do you even know how many laps you ran?" The coach looked at her incredulously. "Two hundred seventy six laps. That's more than ten times the next best amount, which was Jace at twenty." _Uh-oh... _Clary thought nervously._ Maybe I should have stopped sooner._ "How did you even do that? I sure as hell want to know!"

Clary just shrugged in response. "I'm just used to it, I guess." It really wasn't that unusual, was it?

"You guess? Seriously, how did you do that?" Coach Cairstairs was getting frustrated.

"I don't know! It just happened, okay? I won't do it again."

The rest of the tests passed much the same way, with Clary destroying everyone else's score and Coach demanding to know how she did it. Jace came in at second in the class for the first time in his life. They were finally sent to get dressed, and Clary took about ten seconds to be ready to leave. She couldn't wait to get out of there. Next class, please! Finally, time for art.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! I know I haven't updated this in over a year at this point and I'm really sorry about that. I promise I'll make it up to you guys with the next couple of chapters. I've decided I'm going to add trigger warnings as they come into play.**

**Warning: This story contains coarse language, self-harm, child abuse, rape, etc. Please don't read this if it's going to trigger you. I don't want anyone to be upset by this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI, as much as I wish I did. I wish I could meet Magnus, though. When I think of him it makes me want to snort glitter.**

* * *

_**Next class, please! Finally, time for art.**_

Twenty minutes later, Clary had finally found her way to Art. And, like in many the majority of her classes, the only remaining seat was next to that blond kid. What was his name? Jace, maybe... Oh well. People must either really not like him or are too intimidated by him since no one ever sits near him. Most likely the latter.

"Miss Fray, good of you to join us," a voice called out from the front of the room. "I've heard you've been quite the troublemaker today."

"Who, me?" Clary smirked. "I would never." Her eyes glinted mischievously as she spoke, setting the teacher on edge.

"Well, if you're done, I would like to introduce myself, even though you probably already know who I am. My name is Amatis Herondale, but I would prefer that you call me Amatis. Ms. Herondale makes me sound old. Now, since today is your first day, you might as well just grab some paper. This week's theme is hatred, so I am asking that everyone draw something or someone that they hate. It doesn't have to be corporeal. It's due in three days, so I would suggest you get started."

Clary nodded in assent, and that was that. She grabbed a sheet of paper from off the front desk and began her rough sketch. It took longer than expected to figure out what she was going to draw, and eventually she settled on a topic. _This, _she thought to herself, _is going to be fun._

* * *

By the time the bell rang for the end of the day, the drawing was more than halfway finished. She sighed, realizing that she would have to hurry and beat her father home. Which might have been an easier task if she hadn't forgotten that she didn't have a ride.

"Hey, Red," a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You were pretty rude to me today. Any reason why?" She kept walking. "Hey, I'm talking to you! Don't walk away from me." He sounded angry, and more than a little confused. "Nobody walks away from me. Don't you know who I am?"

"Yeah," Clary snapped. "I know exactly who you are. You're some dyed-blonde wannabe that thinks he can get away with anything just because his parents are rich. But a few years from now, that's not going to work so well for you. I don't give a flying fuck who you are, or who you think you are. Mommy and Daddy's money can't solve all your problems for you. You need to grow the fuck up." With that, she turned and walked away, keeping her face perfectly neutral until she was sure she was out of his line of sight.

The second she was sure everything was clear, she sagged against the nearest building in relief. _Holy fuck, he's scary!_ He looked so pissed, and Clary was proud of herself for not fainting or running away crying in the face of his anger. Snapping herself out of her daze, she realized what time it was. _Fuck! It's after 4:00. I am so screwed. _Not wasting any more time, she sprinted the rest of the way to her house, only slightly out of breath as she rounded the corner to her driveway. _Please, don't let him be here. Please tell me he's at the gun range or a poker game or anywhere but here..._

Luck was never really on her side though, and as she walked up the driveway, she could see the tail end of his Camaro over the hill. _Fuck._ Too late to go back now.

She poked her head through the door, slipping quietly into the kitchen to start dinner. She had just slid the food into the oven and was turning to take the utensils she had used to the sink when she almost ran face-first into Valentine, dropping the knives in the process. One landed point-down, sticking in her foot, but she knew better than to complain.

"Clarissa. Would you like to explain to me why you are late?" He looked at her questioningly as he spoke, studying her every motion as if it was of the utmost importance. When she didn't answer immediately, he scowled. "Do not make me repeat myself, Clarissa."

"Sorry, sir. There's really no excuse."

"Damn right there's no excuse. I let you go to school, I feed you, I clothe you, and this is what you give me in return? Disobedience? Disrespect? Someone ought to teach you a lesson in manners. How does that sound, love?"

_Oh shit. He must seriously be pissed._Straightening her back further in a futile attempt to make herself seem less weak, Clary thought through her next sentence carefully before speaking. "It is not my place to make decisions," she replied monotonously, disgusted with herself for not even trying to stand up to him.

"Damn right, it isn't. Now, strip."

_God, no. Anything but this. Please,_ she thought desperately, _not again. _

When she failed to respond, he backhanded her across the face. "Fine. The hard way it is, then. Not like it matters to me." He grinned sadistically as she started shaking, laughing to himself. When he managed to grab onto her shirt with one hand, ripping it in half, all the fight seemed to drain out of her. As he tore off the rest of her clothes, Clary laid perfectly still, accepting her punishment as well as she could. In times like these, she used to pray for her brother to save her, but over the years she's come to realize that her fantasy was exactly that: a fantasy. At this point, she did what she's done for years: She closes her eyes and thinks of London.

* * *

The next morning, after the whips have been cleaned and the knives sharpened and polished, Clary forced her aching muscles to carry her to the shower. Turning on the cold water, she didn't bother to wait before jumping straight in. Hot water would have been better, but she wasn't allowed to use it when John was away, and as he wouldn't be coming back for a long time, several months at least, she would have to get used to it.

The redhead did her best to ignore the catching in her lungs at the feel of the cold water pouring down her back, and instead turned her focus onto the events of the previous night. _God, _she thought. _What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn't even try to stand up to him. I just laid there and let it happen! _

Without a second thought, she pulled her favorite razor off the shelf of the shower. _One cut for being weak. _Cut. _One cut for being useless. _Cut. _One cut for driving Jon away. _Cut. _One cut for being pathetic._ Cut._ One cut for allowing all this to happen. _Cut. _And one cut for cutting. _Cut. She rinsed off the blade carelessly, holding back the tears trying so desperately to fall. _You don't deserve to cry, _she told herself. _You didn't even try to fight back. Lots of people have it worse. Save your tears for someone that actually matters. _

"CLARISSA!" Shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind, she scurried down the stairs.

"Yes, sir." Her voice came out steadily, even as her legs shook beneath her.

"Where is my breakfast?" _Well, fuck_. She had been so wrapped up in her emotions that she had forgotten to cook breakfast before showering. Yesterday, when Jon was here, it hadn't mattered because even though Jon knew about the abuse, Valentine had never hit her outright in front of him. Now her only form of protection from him was gone, maybe permanently. That thought was enough to make the tears she had been so carefully holding back flow over the rims of her eyes. "Well? Hey, bitch, I'm talking to you!" Shit! She'd done it again.

"I'm sorry sir. There's no excuse for my behavior." She cringed internally at how false her voice sounded, even to her own ears. "I'll start on it right away."

"Yeah, well you'd better hurry the fuck up. This is fucking ridiculous. I ask you to do one thing, one _simple_ thing, and you even manage to screw that up." Clary did her best to stop the tears rolling down her face as she hurried to the kitchen. _Shit, what is there to make? There's almost never any food! God, this sucks. _In the end, she settled on eggs and toast as it was the least time consuming yet still somewhat satisfactory meal she could make. Quickly placing the meal on its plate in front of Valentine, she grabbed her things and ran out the door.

_Shit, the bus already left. _She mentally cursed her father as she took off running in the direction of the school. She hadn't made it more than halfway there when her legs gave out beneath her, still protesting from their rough treatment the night before. She was about to give up and just lie down on the ground when she heard a familiar voice.

"Mom, we're gonna be late! Hey, wait a second. No, stop the car! Clary? Is that you?"

Thank God it was just Simon, and not Jace. "Yeah, it's me." Her voice came out hoarse, and she winced.

"You need a ride? We're on our way now."

"If you don't mind, that would be lovely." She winced, trying to get her legs moving and frowning when her muscle response was delayed.

"Clary? You okay?" God, why did he have to sound so concerned? This could really get her into trouble if she wasn't more careful in the future.

"Yeah, Si. I'm fine, just running really late. I'd never have gotten there at the rate I was going. Thanks, by the way." She hoped to whatever was out there that she sounded more convincing to Simon than she did to herself. Thankfully, he seemed to accept her answer, and she let out a relieved sigh.

"Alright, then we really should get going. We're already going to be late as it is."

Clary smiled gratefully as she climbed into the back of the car, nearly groaning as she put pressure on the worst spot. She wished, for the umpteenth time, that he wouldn't be so rough with her when she had to go to school. Oh, well. _Now, time for the next nightmare to begin._


End file.
